bLaCK anD WHitE
by Atramentous Love
Summary: There’s no gray in this world. There’s only black and white. It’s yes or no. Live or die. Be the predator or be the prey." Grimmjow remembers a better life before Aizen. Ulquiorra sees only one path to take. "Pick your poison." Two-shot. No pairings.
1. bLaCK OuT

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Grimmjow in this chapter and I don't own Bleach either.

_**bLaCK** anD WHitE_

_-They tell me the __**darkness**__ will be my __**suicide-**_

Son of a bitch.

The both of them. That damned human for thinkin' he can beat him and protect his wimpy friends. Aizen for thinkin' he's got all rights to my soul, for thinkin' he can actually _control _**me**. It's enough to make any decent Espada vomit into the nearest shit hole.

Maybe not enough for Ulquiorra Schiffer, that sniveling shoe-kissin' pet.

He needs to learn to _butt out_ of my business and stick his nose somewhere else. I would stick it in a place where the sun don't shine, but he's ranked fourth for a reason. Doesn't mean he's got to lord it over me all the fuckin' time. I spit my blood into the corner of the room and wipe away the dribbling remains of it. I need to punch something, kill something, maybe wipe that cocky expression of Szayell's face.

What a fruitcake.

I spit again, frustrated by the hints of crimson staining the otherwise translucent drops. Maybe I should call up Aizen's pet toy and ask her to make the stupid bleeding stop. Maybe Ulquiorra has a thing for her. Yeah, right. I'd sooner ask Tousen on a date. This room is disgustingly white. Everything's white 'n Hueco Mundo. It didn't used to be like this. It used to be dark everywhere, like we weren't good enough or somethin' to see the light. Like we weren't _deservin'_.

That's the way it used to be. We're so fuckin' paranoid here that we think there's always someone laughing at us, someone's out to get us. We'd break each other's necks if it meant we could sleep safely. But no. We're programmed to be like animals, unrestrained and wild. I could kill everyone here and I still wouldn't sleep without feeling like someone's out there with a knife that has my name printed on it. I ain't gonna pretend to be civilized. Civilization's for the_ humans_, for the pathetic shinigami with the gay sword and the fucked up mask. Civilization wasn't meant for the type of **things** like us.

Not that I care. Civilization can screw itself for all I give.

Come to think of it, Aizen can screw himself over for all I care.

Ulquiorra wouldn't like that though. He wouldn't want his precious _**God**_ to kick the bucket. Once a servant, always a servant. Schiffer actually thinks he can be civilized and keep away his primitive urges. Load o' shit if you ask me. I'm living proof of what we're supposed to be like. We're supposed to fight each other, tear each other's throats, eat one another if need be, to get on top of that ladder. Doesn't matter if there's a purpose to this or not; it's not like we have anything else to do here. Espadas aren't supposed to be subservient and Aizen's not anybody's God. Hell, if he's sitting on that high throne of his, it's because we're _letting_ him sit on his high horse. It's because _I'm_ letting him sit there.

Why not?

He'll kill the shinigami for us and then I'll get to kill him. It's a win-win for all of us. There's no gray in this world. There's only black and white. It's yes or no. Live or die. Be the predator or be the prey. Be trodden underfoot or step on others.

It ain't so hard to choose with those stakes.

Don't let pretty boy fool you with that dignified farce. Ulquiorra is just as bloodthirsty and eager to advance as any of us. We were all lowly hollows at first. And then we ate and ate and ate; we ate until we swallowed the world up in our insatiable stomachs and we never stopped. Disgusting? Maybe. Necessary? Yes. Addicting? Moreso than any drug out there for sure.

Yammi would be dead by now if it weren't for Aizen's preaching of "brothers and sisters". Whatever that's s'pposed to mean. I neither have nor_ need_ nor _**want**_ any brothers or sisters.

They'd just be dead weight.

I'm too good for that.

There's a muffled scream coming outside my room. It's probably another piece of meat that doesn't realize they're nothing to us. I ignore the sound and turn to gaze at the terrifically _white_ ceiling. Just for fun, I give a shit-eating grin and hope Aizen's out there and sees this. I hope he sees that Grimmjow bows to no one, least of all an ex-shinigami. It's Hueco Mundo. You can't trust anyone, least of all yourself.

The screams aren't dying away. If anything, they're getting louder. What the Hell?

I kick the door open and slam it against the wall, feeling strangely pleased as a spider-like crack forms. It's always been about power.

"Dontcha think it's enough ta just eat 'em?"

Aaroniero raises his head and tosses an arm into the hallway, blood dribbling down his chin and leaking from that retarded gaping hole where his hand should be. I'm not impressed. "It's never enough. It'll never be enough."

I laugh, but it's not an amused sound. "So you say."

The irritation is palpable as it radiates off his body, but both of us know he can't do anything. Part of survival is knowing how to not get yourself killed. If he were to take even a mild swipe at me, I'd have his body devoured in a heartbeat.

He growls, and turns away. "That human boy will get the best of you sooner or later, Grimmjow."

My fists clench and I spit at him. "Don't ever forget your _place_, you fucker."

What a waste of time. I fire a cero at him, just for fun and partially cuz he pisses the fuck outta me, and snort in disdain as he grunts from blocking it.

Seems like he's got somethin' on his mind. He usually isn't _this_ bad.

Aaroniero Arruruerie's getting fidgety. He's been devouring countless hollows for a while now. It's no secret that he needs one more person's heart, one more person's flesh. He's wanted _her_ for such a long time. I'm surprised he hasn't just disobeyed Aizen and killed her in the human world. It'd be less complicated that way an' that _boy_ would be nutters without her.

I don't see what's the big deal about _her_. She can't even fight to save her life. But everybody here has an interest in her. Aizen cuz she lived with the stupid orb in her body. Gin cuz he's a sadistic freak of nature and he wants to see her scream. Tousen because he sees her as an obstruction to justice. Aaroniero because some dead guy he absorbed while eating a Hollow tells him that she's _special_.

Me? I guess I'm in on it just to see the kid's face when she dies on him.

It'll be a fucking blast.

* * *

Author's Note: I usually don't like so much profanity in my stories, but Grimmjow calls for it. He's an amazing character, at least I think so. I'm sorry if the cussing offends you, but like I said, it's to keep Grimmjow in character. Reviews make me happy. The second chapter to complete this two-shot will be Ulquiorra's time to shine. As for the title, White and Black, it's to represent the very different opinions the 6th and the 4th Espada have. One hates the light and the other has grown to revel in it. One looks for no God to rule him while the other needs a semblance of authority in a chaotic world. So hang on tight, this is going to be one hell of a ride. 


	2. WHitE wASh

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything involving Bleach aside from my plots.

_bLaCK anD__** WHitE**_

_-The__** world**__ needs a __**genocide**__-_

It does not hurt because there is no reason for it to.

Logic like that is simple and it never ceases to disgust me when simpletons like the Sexta Espada just don't understand. It is elementary, the way to follow Aizen-sama's logic and value him for his great foresight. My eyes carefully trace over that woman's figure with mild interest. She is shaking with fear, obviously. There can't possibly be any other emotion in her eyes aside from fear. No fool would dare to hope in such a situation as she is in now.

"You would strike an Espada?" I murmur, my right hand running over the unmarred skin of my cheek. She is an idiot for thinking that her pointless action could possibly harm me in any way. Wasting her strength. Pathetic.

She is breathing deeply, eyeing her shaking hand with something like disbelief? Impossible. One does not make an action without first knowing what the action will be. Unless her hand somehow has a mind of itself, she should not be the least bit surprised at the fact that she just hit me. It simply doesn't make any sense. Not that the action in itself makes any sense either. She is lucky that I do not have such a temper as Nnoitra nor the maniacal obsession that Szayel has. I will not be so lenient next time. "Keep your silence, woman. I will be back later with your meal. Do not think that such a thing will occur again in my presence." I slide the door shut on my way out, careful to seal it before taking to one of Hueco Mundo's large hallways.

There is a great calming silence throughout the dwelling, like peace before a storm. The Winter War is approaching and there have already been casualties. A quick detection of the various scattered energies of my comrades quickly informs me of Aaroniero Arruruerie's demise. His opponent is not yet dead and I know that she will join her fallen enemy in a matter of hours. It is almost pathetic to sense her struggle to stay alive. Perhaps it is better that Aaroniero was the one to perish out of the ten of us. He has always been tactless and overly confident in the Espada circle, wearing his mark with pride. This is not a competition between us; we are only as powerful as we can make ourselves. Nnoitra seems to lack this basic knowledge, so bent on becoming the most powerful that he appears blind to our lack of ambition. I am comfortable with my number. Indeed, I think it matters little what number I may be marked with so long as it means that I will be able to serve Aizen-sama to the best of my ability.

That orange-haired ryoka's energy is poorly contained and leaks like a faucet left on for too long. It makes my head hurt, to have to deal with such a nuisance. It is not as if he will get very far in the end anyways. I decide to change course, rather than retreating to my quarters, I will inform him of the inevitable fate awaiting him and whatever comrades still alive—that of complete defeat.

"Ulquiorra, you seem to be in a hurry." Zommari's voice interrupts my thought process and I half turn to face him, not the least bit fazed by his towering stature. He is one of the quieter Espada and we do not interact very often. He prefers to spend his days in solitude, much like me, and has great respect for Aizen-sama. That too, is a trait that we both share. We would be fitting companions for each other had we wished for company, but neither of us seek companionship, much preferring the presence of one's own mind rather than the presence of an actual being.

"No more than usual." I reply dismissively. There is no point in rushing things, for events unfurl in their own tempo and way. Time has no meaning in Hueco Mundo, and I dislike rash and impulsive actions that come with putting a constraint on time.

"Are you heading to greet one of the intruders on Aizen-sama's behalf?" He is being unusually talkative today. It makes me wonder if he has something on his agenda as well, perhaps he wishes to see the intruders for himself.

"Not to greet, to inform. Their cause is hopeless." I respond and glance to the side where I can feel Nnoitra's energy expanding. He should reign it in more, flaring something like that so freely is nothing more than putting a target on his head for someone to shoot at. I should see to the ryoka soon or Nnoitra will most likely have killed him by the time I reach his location. But I am not in a hurry for my message is not one that is too important. I am sure that more than one of the Espada already realizes the futility of the so-called rescue effort.

"I see. What you say is true and I have taken it upon myself to see to it that Aaroniero's killer will be properly disposed of." He dips his head in respect and heads in the opposite direction, purpose lighting his path. I watch him until he fades away into the distance before continuing onwards. Truly, Aizen-sama has changed Hueco Mundo. Not so long ago, I remember watching the various gillians scrabble blindly around in the darkness like uncivilized creatures. As a Vastolorde, I saw no reason to show them how to garner respect for they were simply beneath me. The elder Vastolordes were in agreement with me and that was how we left the situation.

It is truly a testament to Aizen-sama's power to see nothing but light now in this previously blackened land. He has brought order to us and with it, he has brought his declarations of limitless power. I do not serve him for the chance to become stronger, contrary to Grimmjow, Yammi, Nnoitra, and various other arrancars. I serve him because I feel as if I am obligated to. He has brought civilization to us—a previously unheard of concept. I was the first Vastolorde to join his ranks among the few of us in existence and others have not made up their minds. They believe that he is attempting to manipulate us to serve his own means and that as a former shinigami, he has no place amongst us. I see him as a lesser of two evils. Both paths are dangerous as poison in the end, you just get to pick which poison you would rather risk imbibing. I have chosen and it means little to me if I have chosen incorrectly or not so long as I feel as if I am doing what is most logical, what is most reasonable.

"You should turn back now with what few allies you have left. There is no hope of rescuing that woman." He is surprised to see me, that much I can deduce, but his surprise soon changes into an expression of defiance at my words. Perhaps he thinks that I am taunting him? I do not engage in such petty practices.

"Where is Inoue?" He demands and I gaze upon him blankly. He is trash and in this beginning battle, his side is clearly losing. Yet, he stills feels as if he can demand answers from me? How…odd. Irrationality is deluding him, I conclude before I calculate a response.

"Turn back." I repeat slowly. Perhaps if I reiterate this statement enough times, he will understand.

"No! If I can defeat you, then I will have nothing left to stand in my way!" He swings his sword brashly and points the tip in my direction. I am not amused. Perhaps this is what Aizen-sama refers to when he says that shinigami are merely fools without true strength. It puzzles me to see such a person as him be associated with the same people who murder Hollows during feeding time. He is so…weak, useless. Helpless. "You're the strongest they have, right? I just have to beat you and then Inoue will be free!"

Truly, how stupid of him. I am not the strongest and even if I were to perish at his hands through some glitch in logic, there will be others to replace me. I lower the collar of my cloak so that he can see my branded number; it is not a gesture of confidence upon my part, but an unveiling of knowledge for him. I suppose it is my duty to inform him of his error in judgment and to finally prove to him that he cannot win this game. I am fourth in power, fourth strongest in Aizen-sama's vast and superior army. If he cannot even make a dent with his spiritual pressure, then there is no reason for him to be here. The road has ended and he can only turn back or die.

"It doesn't matter!" He spits and I resist the urge to turn away in disgust. He has no control over himself—none at all. I suppose I overestimated him. "I'll defeat anyone in my way!"

He should learn to keep his mouth shut. "At what cost?" I ask calmly, my hands still at my side. I could kill him unarmed if I wanted to. "Your female friend has already died. Or can't you tell? You should be proud that she managed to kill our ninth Espada before perishing here. At least she was of use to you."

He features curl into a frown and his movements grow more agitated. "Shut up! She can't be dead!" He's denying it? That is odd. I speak only what I know. She is dying and in several more hours, she will be dead. I see no problem with stating only what is inevitable. It's a conclusion that I have deduced based upon the facts that I have garnered through my senses. I can't be wrong. Perhaps he is just too blind to see that I am right.

"She is." I state with conviction and turn the other way. I am wasting my time here and surely some other Espada will gladly take the opportunity to kill him. I don't want to exert unnecessary energy around him. After all, why would anyone use a hammer to crush a bug when a simple press of the hand will complete the same task with less effort? His irrationality is troubling to my normally peaceful state of mind. I should leave and let Nnoitra take his head.

"Where are you going?" He yells furiously. I can sense an underlying challenge in his words, but I ignore it. We are on two vastly different levels. "Come back here, you coward!"

But I am gone before he can even lunge for me.

Such is the difference between logic and emotion. He will be dead before long.

I need only to wait.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And there we go. It's complete now. I tried to be as in character as possible for Ulquiorra. I sensed that he would be the more calculating and subtly condescending type. He doesn't seem like the type to be arrogant or egoistical for the sake of it, but rather the type that acts superior simply because he believes himself to be superior as a fact. And since he believes it to be a fact, he naturally assumes others see it his way as well. I drew the last scene between Ichigo and him from the manga chapters, but there are probably some incorrect details or added on statements to stretch out the scene. The contrast between his account and opinion with Grimmjow's is really startling. I would highly advise everyone to reread Grimmjow's chapter for comparison. Their relationship dynamics in terms of personality and personal views are really interesting. Once again, this story is now complete. I would appreciate it if some of you drop a comment of two just to let me know about your own ideas. Thanks for reading! 


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